Hallowed Be Thy Name
by RevolutionZwei
Summary: Billy Coen ponders about his past and future, as he awaits execution for his "crime". The sands of time are running low, as the former Marine searches for some peace of mind. Slight Billy/Rebecca...all from Billy's POV. Short oneshot.


**Disclaimer : Capcom owns all rights to Resident Evil, including their characters. Any OC's that appear in this story were created by me.**

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It was a cold day. Very uncharacteristic of Philadelphia this time of year, but then again it mirrored the solemness of today. They say that today I finally get to pay for all of the sins of my past. They have no evidence to prove or disprove what happened in Africa, and no matter how much they beat the shit out of me, they'll never get a confession. Years of running and hiding, having to look over my shoulder, and hide my face have all led to this day. I suppose it was inevitable. I should have known that they'd eventually catch me; after all, it's not like the entire world didn't know who I was...who I am.

As I watch the clock tick my life away, I can't help but wonder how it all went wrong. I was just a Marine who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I tried to be the voice of reason, for the first time in my life. The good guys aren't supposed to get this kind of treatment, right? Especially when the real murderers are still at large. None of that matters now though. I could have said that I had nothing to do with what happened in that small village, but it would have made no difference. Everybody already had their mind made up that I was the killer of those twenty-three innocent people. There was only one person who thought different. Thinking of her is the only warmth that I have. Rebecca Chambers...

They do this on purpose, you know? They keep it uncomfortably cold in this prison, and even though it's August, I can't help but shiver. My heart is pounding with what is to come. They plan on doing something very illegal to me. They said that it will be the only proper punishment for "my kind". It won't be a public execution, and they've paid all the right people to make this happen. Apparently a good old-fashioned lynching is "proper" punishment. A sigh escapes my lips, as I think back to 1998. A crazy year, no doubt. I was scheduled to die then too, but as I was being transported, we were attacked by creatures. Cerberus is what they're called, if memory serves. Kind of a blessing in disguise, if you ask me. I tried to help the guys who were being attacked, but I had no other choice. I had to run, or I would have died too. Thinking back, I wonder how bad it would have been? To be eaten alive, I mean. Maybe it ain't so bad after the initial shock wears off. Can't be worse than being hung.

I sit down on my uncomfortable, but familiar cot and wait for the inevitable. It won't be too long now. Five o'clock according to them, but I wouldn't be surprised if that was a lie too. Hard to believe anything these snakes tell you. I guess they weren't lying, as it is already forty-five past. Fifteen minutes, and they'll take me to the gallows. Strange to say such a word in this day and age, especially in America. Land of the free my ass. Liberty? A joke. This injustice is messed up beyond all reason. It's strange that they portray Lady Justice as wearing a blindfold, huh? Bullshit if you ask me. Lady Justice is a whore, selling herself to the highest bidder.

Maybe it won't be so bad. Strange to say that I hope my neck snaps, but I guess it's really the best that I can hope for. I'd rather not give them the pleasure of watching me choke to death, and if they think that I'm gonna beg, they got another thing coming. On my bed lay several hardback books, which were very old and worn. I thought it was kinda weird when they gave me reading material. The book that really stood out was "The Crucible". Irony in it's purest form, huh? Now I know how Sarah Good, John Proctor, Rebecca Nurse, and everyone else who was accused of witchcraft felt. They also threw in the Bible, just to be smart asses. Some people turn to religion in prison, and find peace. It helps some people, but I'm not some people. Just the fact that I'm in prison makes me believe that much more that there is no God. They say that He will watch over us, and protect us. Where is He now? Where is He when I need him the most?

Tears flow, but why am I crying? I'm not usually one to get emotional. I guess it's the fear of death. No...I'm not afraid of dying, so it must be the fear of the unknown. What happens after death? No one knows for sure, nor will anyone ever know. Probably one of life's greatest mysteries. Five minutes left, and my heart races faster. My stomach is knotting in anxiety, and I honestly feel like I might throw up. After brushing some of my dark hair behind my ear, I stand up and rest my forearm on my window with a sigh, also resting my forehead on the cold steel. Another odd little luxury they threw in, to tease me I suppose. I know the sands of time are against me, so I take in the sights from behind the bars one last time. All I see is a world that has gone very wrong for me. Outside is the polar opposite of in here; bright and colorful, full of warmth and freedom. My cell is cold and unforgiving, heavy with monotony and despair. Lucky me, huh? Suddenly, I can hear heavy footsteps approaching, and I know that my time has come.

"Ready for your big day Coen?" the large guard teased with a disgusting smirk. He opened the door to my cell, which slid easily, grinding steel on steel and causing my teeth to grit. His equally large partner entered, and quickly slapped a pair of handcuffs on me. The prison's bell began to chime, signifying that it was indeed five o'clock. One again, my stomach knotted painfully, but at least the tears had stopped. That was the last thing that I wanted them to see. They led me down the corridor, and I could feel the eyes of other prisoners upon me.

"God be with you son." one of the older prisoners called as I passed by. The guards stopped, probably as stunned with the statement as I was. After all, the entire time that I had been in here, no one dared speak to me. Not that they were afraid or anything, but no one wanted to be associated with me. Apparently, I am the lowest form of scum that this prison has to offer.

"If there's a God, why has He let me go?" I responded grimly, garnering a chuckle from my escorts. They arrogantly continued to lead me to my death, clearly pleased with themselves. It wasn't long before we reached the courtyard, and I saw that long rope hanging down, spelling my immanent doom. The sight causes my heart to hammer faster, as they led me up the stairs, over the trap door. There weren't many people here, just the prison workers and guards. And of course, there was the warden. My two escorts left my side, eager to join the warden for the show. Now, it was just me and the hangman, looking down at the smiling faces as they laughed at my despair. I'm surprised that the hangman isn't wearing an old-fashioned black mask, to be honest. It would have fit perfectly.

"William Coen. You have been charged with murdering twenty-three innocent villagers while on a mission for the Marines in Africa. Today, justice will be served. You will hang by the neck, until dead." the warden informed, motivating several guards to cheer in excitement. The hangman begins to fix the noose around my neck, and I know the end is near. But, I'm not sorry. I've done nothing to be sorry for.

"The priest isn't even gonna read the last rites?" I hear a guard whisper to his friend, who let out a hearty laugh at his statement.

"It won't do no good. He's gonna burn in Hell for what he's done." the other man replied, fixating his greedy gaze on me. I feel the rope tighten around my neck, which I assume meant that the hangman was satisfied with his work. He gave a quick thumbs up to the warden, who grinned happily.

"Any last words William?" he taunted, earning more gleeful laughs. The only thoughts that were going through my mind was how much these people sicken me. I've never seen people so elated by the thought of killing another human being. This is justice? Killing me will make everyone feel better about the twenty-three people who died supposedly by my hand? I was always under the impression that two wrongs don't make a right.

"Yeah. My name is Billy." I retorted, spitting as hard as I could at the warden's face for good measure. Unfortunately, my saliva only landed on his shoes, which instantly erased the grin that he was wearing. With a malicious nod, the hangman hit me in the back of my head with something blunt. I couldn't help the grunt of pain that escaped my lips due to the attack. Once again, the strike seemed to lift the spectator's spirits, as they waited for the show to begin. I on the other hand, wish that the force of the blow would have knocked me out. Actually, I kinda wish that it would have killed me, so these assholes wouldn't get to see the pleasure of me hanging. Of course, my luck was against me, as it always was, and I remained conscious. The hangman's hand moved to lever that controlled the trap door, and I feel it hit me. This is the end. You know, I suppose that a little prayer couldn't hurt. At the very least, it might piss these shit heads off...

"Our Father...who art in Heaven..." I begin, watching the amused faces of the guards light up.

"Hallowed be thy name...-" my words were cut off when the warden nodded again, and the hangman pulled the lever. Bastards wouldn't even let me finish. The floor cut out from beneath me, and I fell until the rope could go no more. With a vicious jolt, the rope snapped tightly. Damn...my neck didn't break. I struggled for air, even though none would come. The rope would make sure of that. By now, my face must be pretty red, and I feel immense pain in my neck, probably due to a combination of rope burn and the force of the fall. My lungs burn in need, and a couple of rogue tears have managed to spill on my cheeks. Not quite what I wanted to happen, but things rarely work out for the better. I pray for death, and for once it seems to have been answered. My vision is getting fuzzy, and it doesn't hurt so much now. Not too bad at all...

I can barely make out the smiling faces of the bastards who have done this to me, but I don't care. Don't really wanna see them no way. Suddenly, I'm hit with tunnel vision, and I see the one person that I _do_ want to see.

"Rebecca..." I muttered weakly with my final breath, as the darkness took over.

--

_Okay, that it for my first story starring anyone other than Leon and Ada. Also my first 1st person POV story, so if it sucks, sorry. I had loads of inspiration for this. The main reason I wrote this is because the idea hit me when I was listening to Iron Maiden's "Hallowed Be Thy Name". I'm sure you've guess the reason for the title now, huh? There are several lines from the song in here, so try to find them! XD_

_Other inspiration includes a scene from Sin City, and the Salem Witch Trials. I threw "The Crucible" in there too, for that reason. I wanted a literal metaphor, and a not so literal metaphor. Anyway, like I said my first story with Billy Coen as the star, so be gentle, eh? lol_

_Well, I would appreaciate some reviews if you have the time! If it sucks, you can tell me why, and I'll listen. If you like it, that's also cool. Until next time!_

_P.S. - It's really hard to write being hung from my perspective, as I can't say that it's ever happened to me before XD_


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